Prediction Book
by Bucket on the Head
Summary: It's all Freddies' ancestors' faults!" Freddie's Point of View.


Disclaimer: I do not own iCarly or the song "Crazy For This Girl" by Evan and Jaron.

Prediction Book

She rolls the window down  
And she  
Talks over the sound  
Of the cars that pass us by  
And I dont know why  
But shes changed my mind

_Chapter One:_

**Gifts From the Heart**

--

It is today, of all days, that I have decided to be spontaneous.

"Well, hello there, beautiful!" I say suavely to a pretty little freshman girl who's about half the size of a pea and is trembling like a little leaf.

"H-h-h-h-h-h-h-hi-i." She stutters, and I wonder if it's a speech impairment or if I'm just that smooth with the ladies.

"I was wondering...what's a gorgeous young thing like you doin' in a place like this?"

She seems to gain a little confidence; her eyes alight with something akin to disbelief as she leans against the lockers behind her. "I could ask you the same question."

I'm about to say something that I believe is clever, but then I realize that we're in a school and there's absolutely nothing romantic or manly about an educational system…

"W-well I-I'm, uhh...here to, uh, l-_learn_ and stuff. And I, uh..." Oh, for the love of Pete.

The little pea-sized girl begins to howl with laughter and then I notice how closely she resembles a stupid, blonde-haired friend of mine...

"Nice moves, Freddork!" I hear Sam call out from around the corner, and I hope that I can suddenly faze into the ground and disappear.

"You set me up!" I shout indignantly, and she rolls her eyes.

"Duh!"

--

You're probably all wondering what it is I'm doing, hitting on a tiny freshman and then getting laughed at by said freshman and _Sam_. The whole thing started when we were five.

Now, as a child, I had a very...._peculiar_ way of laughing. It really wasn't my fault! My mother had taught me to laugh '_politely'_ when in the company of ladies, but unfortunately, because I had not mastered my bodily functions yet (being the tender age of five), this laugh didn't come out sounding too normal.

In fact, everytime I _would_ laugh, it would sound like I was coughing.

...Coughing a word.

...

...Coughing a word that sounded a bit too much like the word "_fag_".

And that's how this whole thing started.

_Two small, brown-haired, hazel-eyed children waddled along the paths of Seattle Park, happily sight-seeing and waiting for their friend Sam to show up so they could have a picnic._

_The little brunette girl, carrying a whicker picnic basket, swung her arms back and forth as she walked. They neared the darker corner of the park, where the big kids hung out._

_"Hey, Freddie." Little Carly began, and she gave off a small giggle, unaware to the fact that a large, older child was approaching, ready to steal their food. The big kid crept up behind them, burly and strange-looking._

_"Yeah, Carly?" Freddie wondered, tearing his gaze from the beautiful, rolling hills of the park._

_"What do you think Sam is doing right now?"_

_He put a finger to his lip in thought, and then removed it when he had an answer._

_"Probably eating ham!" He exclaimed, and this sentiment made Carly bubble with laughter._

_The burly kid stopped them both, an angry expression set onto his features."Give me your food!" He shouted, and Freddie, having not realized the situation, began to laugh at his own joke before noticing the teenager._

_His laugh echoed in the older child's mind._

FAG COUGH FAG COUGH FAG COUGH FAG

_The boy, realizing what was happening, just seemed to grow angrier._

_"WHAT DID YOU CALL ME?"_

_Freddie and Carly froze, not knowing how to react besides screaming and running away. Suddenly, a blonde blur passed by them and tackled the older male to the ground._

_"BACK OFF, ANCHOVY-BREATH!"_

Sam had saved us from the bully.

_"You guys totally owe me!" She said triumphantly, and the two brunettes groaned._

_"Fine, Sam." Carly started, "What do you want?"_

_She paused, as if in thought, and then grinned. "For my next billion birthdays, you guys have to do one stupid thing that I tell you, and you can't say no!"_

_Freddie and Carly blanched at Sam's giant grin._

_"I predict my birthday is gonna be famous some day because of this!" She announced._

So, now you know? Happy? ...Me neither.

Anyway, that's how this whole thing started off, with me harrassing the little freshman and such and such. Sam had told me that today, _yes, her _birthday, that I would have to hit on this particular freshman girl without any complaints.

...Shut up. It's not funny.

"Hello, Freddork! Meet my cousin," I glare, because _really_, Sam has _too_ many cousins that I am not aware of, "the one who's _not in jail_!" She grins and I roll my eyes at her signature line, "'Talia!"

I raise an eyebrow, "'Talia'?" I repeat, not having heard such a name before.

"It's short for '_Natalia_', moron." Sam says as though it's obvious, and I can't help but roll my eyes again.

--

Later, Sam and I travel down the school's main hallway, heading for the cafeteria where Carly awaits Sam's birthday challenge.

"So," I begin, and I idly notice Sam's eyes move to look at me. "What are you planning?"

A slow smirk begins to rise on her face, and she looks positively _evil_.

"Oh..." She begins, and I feel myself growing a little frightened at her expression, or what she might have planned for poor Carly.

"...Not much."

--

It's eleven thirty and Carly is standing on top of a cafeteria table.

_Screaming._

And not just screaming, but screaming words. Those words being; "I LOVE APPLES!"

"_Sam_," I repremend, looking over at said blonde. "Why is Carly shouting 'I love apples' to the skies?"

Sam shrugs. "'Couldn't think of anything else."

The entire cafeteria is stunned into silence, and then laughs hysterically, everyone already knowing why Carly was doing such a weird thing in the middle of lunch.

"That was great!" One student at the table behind him said to her friend.

"Yeah, but not as great as Sam's birthday last year when Carly had to steal a pair of Jake Krandall's underwear from the locker room and attach it to the flag pole!"

"Ohmygosh, that was the greatest!"

"Totally!"

I sigh, "Sam, really, this day is becoming famous..."

She grins, obviously happy with the results. "Duh! That's why I do it. Well, also because I love embarrassing you two."

I half-smile, shaking my head at her immaturity, and look around the lunch table I'm sitting at. Suddenly, I realize that I have _alot_ of girl friends.

Not _girlfriends_, like the nice ones you get to date and makeout with, I mean _friends_ who are _girls._ I notice only about two or three of my guy friends sitting at our table, and I'm not even that close with them. The guys from the AV and Chess club don't count.

_I should get some real guy friends_. I think to myself, and inwardly groan as Sam reminds me that I have to walk to my grandparents house after school today.

_Great._

--

When I arrive at my grandparents' house, my grandfather is waving with a cheesy grin on his face from the porch.

"Good afternoon, Fredward!" He says with his obvious French accent, and I can't help but smile.

"Hey, granddad. Where's mom and grandma?"

He flicks his wrist, as though waving them off. "They escaped to the city! Went to get groceries!"

"Oh. Okay, when will they be back?"

"They said something about later tonight, so my assumption is that is when they will return!" I nod and lug my heavy bookbag upstairs to get dressed and look for a present for Sam's birthday party later. I decide to look upstairs in the attic for something that might be cool and antique-y.

I come across big, dusty trunks and some other junk that looks like it's from the Jurassic era.

"How old is this _dust!?_" I exclaim, coughing slightly as some of it rises into my throat.

I crawl around for a few more minutes, pushing back some old burgundy curtains that are haphazardly hanging from the ceiling on brass rods, and almost fall down a steep step that I didn't notice the last time I was up here.

"Ouch!" I look around for more steps, and notice a shimmer of something in the corner of the room. I stand up, now having more room to do so, and walk over to where I see the glimmering object.

"What is this...?" I say aloud, pushing an extremely heavy trunk from atop a thick, dusty book. It has a pale gold ribbon hanging from it, a bookmark of sorts, and is a shiny rust color. I open the little book, expecting words, but find only blank pages. I flip back to the cover of the book, and realize that there is fat, black writing carved into it. I squint, and with some quick detective skills, discover that it says "La Livre des Prédictions".

Unfortunately, it looks like French, while I am in Spanish, although I took the former in the beginning of High School. I am able to decipher that it means "Book of Predictions", but what's that even mean? Who would want a book to write predictions in? I pick the book up, rolling my eyes, and take it downstairs with me.

Happy birthday, Sam. Meet your new present.

_by, both._


End file.
